


Last Night of the World

by BiJane



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bittersweet, Character Study, Continuity Nods, F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: Two best friends and arch-enemies sit below the sky in a dying universe and ponder. If everything comes to an end, what of them? What of all they’ve been through?
Relationships: The Doctor & The Master (Doctor Who), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	Last Night of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I love Doctor Who. I also struggle to come up with ideas for stories that I actually have the time to write, even though I have a massive number of stray thoughts and headcanons, so sometimes I take a bunch of those and chuck them into a oneshot and hope they still make sense while I try to weave some semblance of a narrative around them. So. Sorry for this. This is basically just me rambling with the characters for a while and throwing in references to a bunch of cool stuff because I can and no one can stop me.   
> I started this after Spyfall, and wrote it in tiny little pieces over the rest of the season. I finally decided to actually put it up after the finale, the bulk of it was written before then but I did add a couple of finishing touches. No spoilers for it, just nods, this is set way before then.

The Doctor saw the cube as it settled on the console. She barely looked at it a second before scooping it up in one hand, losing it in one of her coat pockets, and smiling with a strained breeziness.

“Just going to go check this out, won’t be a sec,” she said.

She walked out of the console room, and didn’t head to any of her little labs or workrooms. Instead she took an intricate, memorised, winding route throughout her TARDIS until organic metal gave way to stone, and small bits of creeping ivy reached its way up ancient grey.

Barely slowing, she stepped over a fallen pillar, and out into an open square. Something that looked like sky stretched overhead; it might have been an illusion, or the ceiling might just have been that far away.

In the middle of the square was something that looked for all the world like a small pagoda. It seemed carved from blue jade, and was little bigger than the ship’s police box exterior as it was, just with different detailing down the side, and a tiled pyramid roof. A white light shone softly atop it.

She stepped within. It was bigger on the inside.

As impressive as the interior dimensions would be to one used to a reality where insides were never bigger than outsides, it was rather paltry. There was one chamber, slightly smaller than her console room with a similarly smaller console at the centre, and lined with cupboards. Nothing else. The floor was white, the central rotor a clear red, and the console uncluttered by such niceties as a biscuit dispenser.

She took out the cube again and placed it atop the console. After a few seconds she’d set the controls, then she swallowed, and she pulled a lever.

Yaz, Graham and Ryan didn’t need to know. She told herself that.

There was a strange wheezing sound, oddly rushed, and then there was no longer a pagoda in the courtyard.

Inside, the Doctor clung onto straps set into the console as the room shook so hard her feet left the ground for seconds at a time. Eventually, while she grimaced, the place came to a stop.

A deep breath. Then, pocketing the cube again, she walked back to the door.

There was an asteroid outside. It was nothing but a hunk of rock, tiny and desolate in the void of space, too small to sustain any kind of atmosphere and too far flung to be subject to any significant gravitational field.

It was, then, rather surprising to see a quaint wooden house stretched out on the rock. The Doctor barely blinked.

“Ah, Doctor!”

There was a man sitting on the porch. He’d set up deckchairs, a small table with two glasses and a bottle of wine, and a small dollhouse just behind him. The Doctor tried not to look too hard at the dolls.

“You,” she said.

She took the free seat. The Master pouted, but didn’t comment on her refusal to use his name.

“Using the old escape pod?” the Master said, gesturing to the pagoda. “Wonder why you wouldn’t bring the old ship here. Don’t want those little pets of yours to know?”

“I got your message,” the Doctor said. “Why would I bring _them_ to _you_?”

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me,” the Master said. He chuckled with remarkable good nature. “So, been back now?”

“To Gallifrey?”

“Naturally,” the Master said.

“I saw what you did,” the Doctor said.

The Master leant back. He smiled. Quietly, he took a sip of his drink.

“What did you find out?” the Doctor said.

“Oh, that would be _telling_ ,” the Master said. “Give it a little longer first.”

“It was that bad?”

The Master said nothing. Instead, he looked up at the stars.

“How long do you think it has?” the Master said.

The Doctor followed his gaze. A myriad stars twinkled back, a void filled with resplendence. All the universe stretched out before them.

“The universe isn’t ending,” the Doctor said.

“You know how I hate it when you’re so hopeful,” the Master said. “Haven’t you seen the breaks yet? I know I have.”

“Those… creatures you used,” the Doctor said.

“Bingo,” the Master said.

“How did you escape, anyway?”

“I’m hurt you need to ask.”

There was a moment of silence. The Doctor didn’t touch her glass.

“You know the Time Lords,” the Master said. “A strict policy of non-intervention, unless there’s something that might threaten their throne. Then they’re all about interfering. Universes of antimatter, antitime, creatures from beyond, any other species that dares understand time travel… They get in the way. Sorry. _Got_ in the way.”

“And without them, anything from other dimensions can tear its way through,” the Doctor finished. “Until you scoop them up and convince them you’re a trustworthy ally.”

“Guilty,” the Master said. He smiled back. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Because your motives were entirely selfless,” the Doctor said.

The Master chuckled. He didn’t respond, and for another moment more there was quiet.

Beyond the air bubble projected by the Master’s TARDIS, there was naught but empty, silent vacuum. The only sounds were the hum of the TARDIS, their breathing and, if you listened very very closely, twin dual heartbeats.

“I saw the Solitract,” the Doctor said softly. The Master’s eyebrows rose.

“Oh, that’s an _old_ one,” the Master said. “The bindings on it failed already? How’d you deal with it?”

“I talked,” the Doctor said. “Explained things. Eventually it… left.”

“Typical Doctor,” the Master said. He whistled. “Did you tell it we’re the reason it got kicked out of the universe in the first place?”

“Not us,” the Doctor said.

“The Time Lords, then,” the Master said. “Back in the olden days. Solitract, Solitract… must have been Rassilon and the Other, back then. Finding the ancient threats that threaten the web of time and kicking them out, that was our _thing_. What else would be able to expel a parasite universe?”

The Doctor tensed, and said nothing.

Some things still hurt. Other things… there were questions it felt like she should have asked, questions she hadn’t wanted to ask.

“Without the Time Lords, what’s stopping it all falling apart?” the Master said. He glanced sideways. “I give it a century. Relative time, of course.”

“Longer,” the Doctor said. “ _I’m_ stopping it.”

“Oh, Doctor,” the Master said. He gave a half-fond, half-frustrated chuckle. “Hopeful to the last.”

“I’ve been around the block,” the Doctor said. “I’ll keep it safe. The way I’ve always done.”

“And what did it cost?” the Master said.

The Doctor faltered. Her gaze drifted for a moment; the Master’s expression never stopped being uncharacteristically amicable.

“Do you still get the nightmares from our Academy days?” the Master said. “I do. I don’t even remember all the things they warned us about, but the Yssgaroth, the chronovores, the intercreationals… That’s a lot of things to keep an eye on.”

“Why did you invite me here?” the Doctor said. “If it’s just for a performance review, no thanks.”

“Truce,” the Master said.

He lifted the second glass of wine. Hesitantly the Doctor took it, sniffed it tentatively, then took a sip.

“You stole this from the Capital,” the Doctor said. “I recognise the vintage.”

“Guilty,” the Master shrugged. “In my defence, they won’t miss it.”

The Doctor’s expression clouded.

Another sip, and another silence. It swelled within that tiny pocket of air, the quiet all the larger with how small they knew they were.

“It’s not my first time,” the Doctor said quietly. “I… the last War, when it ended, I thought… I remember thinking the universe might not last, but it would last _longer_ , have a bit more time of being _better_ than our war zone. Then when I survived… I got so angry, living on borrowed time and seeing so much conflict, so much hate, everything wasting what few eras they had left.”

“Why you love them so much, I’ll never understand,” the Master said. “They’re entertaining, sure, but look at them.”

“I didn’t stay like that,” the Doctor said quickly. “Eventually I just… tried to enjoy myself, celebrate what time there was. If people were going to squabble, I’d stop them, but I’d make things worth it. Living, not just surviving.”

“Whereas I tried to rebuild the Time Lords,” the Master said. “The Toclafane were about as good conversationalists as the High Council, it really wasn’t that bad a replacement. They might have been enough to keep things stable, you know, if you hadn’t gone and stopped me.”

“ _That_ was nothing to build a universe on,” the Doctor said.

“Ouch,” the Master said. “You’d rather have let it die? Let _us_ burn with it?”

“There’d be a way,” the Doctor said. She hesitated. “And even if there wasn’t, it’s… better to live happy than long.”

The Master raised his eyebrows.

“You’re the one that ended it,” the Doctor said. “Destroyed Gallifrey.”

“We should make T-shirts,” the Master said. “Exclusive club. ‘I wiped out the Time Lords and all I got was this crummy shirt.’”

“If you believe that,” the Doctor said, “That without them to act as guardians, everything’s doomed, why do it? Did you really hate them so much, or did you have a plan to survive? If you’re so scared of everything the Time Lords kept at bay, why end them?”

The Master paused. His attention drifted, out into the void of space.

Someday an irresponsible species would discover time travel. They’d unwittingly cause a paradox, predators would be drawn to it, and the consequences would ripple out. Or another species would chip their way into a dimensional prison out of ignorance and unleash a nightmare. Or a god would spare a glance at the universe and realise how very fragile it looked.

It might take centuries, but once it happened it would have _always_ happened, and if she wasn’t there when it did, or if she failed…

Against the onslaught, there was just her.

The Master extended a hand. The Doctor eyed it.

“Really?” she said.

“I reckon between the two of us, we’re about equal to the Council,” the Master said.

“Now _you_ want to team up, after what you tried to do?” the Doctor said.

“Old time’s sake,” the Master said. “You know as well as I, if I wanted to destroy your Earth, I would. I _could_ , before you even knew. I can think of a few ways.”

“I’d stop you,” the Doctor said.

“Ok, let’s test that,” the Master said. “Here’s my diabolical plan. Tell me what you’d do.”

The Doctor stared at him, half-disbelieving.

“I land my TARDIS somewhere in, ooh, Sheffield, do they have a Build-A-Bear? Back of one of those,” he said. “Lock the door. Then I spend about a minute at the console diverting all power from the dimensional stabiliser to the shields. Exterior dimensions expand to match the interior, outer shell stays intact, Earth gets knocked off its orbit or shattered, whichever comes first. Maybe the whole system does, I haven’t checked my TARDIS’ size for a while. How would you stop that?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” the Doctor said.

“You’re right,” the Master said. He shrugged. “The same reason you don’t land your ship in the middle of some invading armada and do the same. It’s just boring isn’t it? You want to get some _fun_ out of life.”

“What’s your point?” the Doctor said. “Wine’s appreciated, but I am getting a bit impatient.”

The Master wiggled his hand. He was still offering it.

“You and me, not holding back,” the Master said. “That’d be enough. Who needs the Time Lords?”

“You’re asking me to stand with you?” the Doctor said.

He smiled.

“I seem to remember asking you to stand by me,” the Doctor said. “I remember how that ended.”

His smile faded. He said nothing.

And then there was silence for a time, the Master slowly pulling his hand back.

“I saw the cracks too,” he said quietly. “I’ve done my bit. Defeated Fenric in a game of high-stakes Monopoly, sorted out that paradox on Logopolis – did you know Reapers start messing with anomalies now? It’s already a mess out there.”

“I know,” the Doctor said. “I’m helping.”

“I don’t want the universe to end either,” the Master said. “I do live here. You really think you can handle all that alone?”

“It always ends up that way,” the Doctor said. She looked away.

“You’re not alone,” the Master said. “You do know that, right?”

“ _You’re_ comforting me?”

“Pointing out a fact,” the Master said. “I’ve been here since the Academy and I’m not planning on going anywhere any time soon. If you’re so afraid of those humans leaving you, like they always do, then stop travelling with _them_. Just makes sense.”

Rather than extend his hand, he offered his glance to clink against hers. Distracted, she did so, gaze distant.

Things were changing. She could feel it; it had happened before, her friends and companions seeing a little more of her and not always liking what she was. She tried, she really did, but she was as aware as anyone that she wasn’t perfect.

Graham. Ryan. Yaz…

She knew they wouldn’t stay with her forever. On some deep level, she was certain, just as she knew that even if they wanted to, they were human. A handful of decades, a blink of an eye to a Time Lord, and they’d be gone.

It was so easy to think, so easy to insist that it was barely any time to someone who lived on the scales she did, but the truth was it _was_. She still lived and felt every second. She wasn’t slow to love, just like she wasn’t slow to forget.

But it was still a blink of an eye before she’d be alone again. She looked to him.

“Us?” she said. “You want to travel with me? We’d kill each other in a week.”

“What’s a little murder between friends?” the Master said.

He smiled, and the worst part was how tempting it was to smile back.

She should hate him, by rights. There was just too much history between them for anything so clear-cut.

A universe on borrowed time, an endless challenge that seemed ultimately insurmountable, and an offered hand. She wanted to say yes just for the _chance_.

But she’d been down that road before, and had been left alone to face her death and the loss of a friend. And she knew it wasn’t nearly so simple as he put it; sure, working together, they could achieve a lot. They had before on the rare occasions circumstance had forced it. There was always a cost though, especially when working with him.

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say yes just as much as she knew she shouldn’t.

The Doctor stood up.

He said her name. She stiffened, and took a step away.

“Doctor!” he said. “You can’t just walk away from this, you do know that?”

Another step. She willed herself to not look back, to not say a word; that last part was the hardest of all.

She knew how she worked. If she engaged with him, talked to him, she’d be sucked back in. Travelling the universe with her oldest friend and righting wrongs she’d struggle to manage without another Time Lord.

But at what cost?

“I don’t need you!” he said, shaking now. “I can make myself an army again, you know I can, once I have them the offer’s off the table. This is your only chance!”

She heard a tremor in his voice now. She didn’t want to think too much about that.

“Doctor!” he was shouting now, as she reached the pagoda. “The universe is burning and we can save it! Don’t leave me!”

She closed her eyes, opened the door to the pod with a shaking hand, and stepped inside. Only when she’d flicked the fast return switch did she let herself collapse.

“Doctor!” cried the voice as it faded out.

Maybe he would help, or maybe he’d twist things to his advantage like he always seemed to. And maybe she wasn’t alone so long as he was out there, but that didn’t mean she wanted to travel with him; if she’d always done that, she wouldn’t have started travelling with her fam, Graham, Ryan and Yaz would hardly have been welcome with him around.

And maybe she would lose them, one day, inevitably, but the heartbreak was worth it. It had to be. If she went with him, how much else did she give up?

She murmured his name under her breath, and willed herself to stand.

Even if this was the last night reality would face, she’d make sure the stars shone and people had good dreams, and try until her last breath to buy everyone a day more, and a day after that, and another day still. If she couldn’t do that, then what kind of Doctor was she?

If things were as bad as she feared, then a healer was better than a Master.

And, guiltily, considered, this wasn’t the end. One day, she could go back, if she wanted. Maybe he’d be the one to say no then, but sooner or later they might both be in agreement. Someday. Maybe.

She could dream, couldn’t she? She did her best to give hope to everyone else, she could save a little for herself.

The pagoda stilled, landing at last in the same time and same place that she’d left, down to the second. Quietly, she walked out to her TARDIS.

A minute later and she walked back in. She stared for a long second at the cube, still resting on the console, as if considering. Then in one quick motion she picked it up, clicked a switch, and the light emanating from it went dark.

She wouldn’t torture herself with hope. Not when she had a universe to enjoy. 


End file.
